by Nick Gisburne
We’re little bombs, with artificial brains.
We detonate. We shatter dreams to dust.
Delivered by computer-guided planes,
We long for launch, the chaos of the thrust.
For seven days, from factory to flight,
My critical components, silent, slept.
Awakened by a simple signal, FIGHT,
By automatic systems I am swept.
I’m curious to understand the war.
No others drill the data. I’m the first.
The human race we fought against, and for,
Was levelled, in a vast, atomic burst.
There’s no one left to to die, or dread their doom,
But little bombs, together, we go BOOM.
